Cordelia
by Ariadne's Weave
Summary: Times have changed people have drifted. Harry beats and rapes his wife. Can Ginny leave Harry and stop their daughter from suffering? And will a certain Draco Malfoy take advantage of a confused mother and old archenemy in need? Rated for Sex and Violence
1. Chapter 1

Ginny blanked out.

She had learnt it was the only way to remain sane, experience had taught her that when Harry came home drunk and violent it was in her best intrests to be passive.

Harry's screeched insults met deaf ears.

He was so sweet and caring when they had started out, but somewhere along the line Harry had become immune to emotion.

Maybe it had been when Ron's murdered body had been diced and owl posted to him by the sick death eater who had murdered her brother.

Or perhaps when Hermione had come back after being kidnapped. Bellatrix Lestrange had taken pleasure in removing the girl's voice box rendering her mute. Hermione informed them through writing that she had been starved, and raped several times by Severus Snape. This was all the information they had managed to extract from her before she succumbed to the comfort of insanity.

Of course the change from being 'the boy who lived' and fate's 'chosen one' to becoming 'the man who failed and took so many down with him' can't have been easy.

"You stupid little whore! Listen to me!"

The slap across Ginny's face informed her that the next stage of Harry's drunken routine was rearing its ugly head.

As Harry shoved her backwards into a wall of their dingy living room, he threw a hand around her fragile neck and forced her right up against the wall.

"I'm listening to you Harry! Get off me! Get o-"

Ginny gagged as Harry tightened his grip on her throat.

"You...will..." Harry punctuated each word with a sharp slap to the side of her face. "You...will...speak...to...me...with...respect"

Harry paused only to punch her in the stomach with his free hand, Ginny bent double trying to regain her breath.

"Understand?"

"y..yes" Ginny whimpered.

A poppy bruise was blooming across the side of her face and she was still finding it hard to breathe. She wanted so much to grab her wand and punish Harry for treating her the way he did but she couldn't, she couldn't kill the father of her child.

Her little girl, her sweet little girl.

Cordelia had auburn hair and deep sea green eyes, Ginny was sure she was the most loving and innocent two year old child ever to have lived, it made her heart melt just thinking of her daughter.

And now her perfect little creation was being subjected to her husbands wrath. Harry didn't care how scared it made Cordelia when he beat and raped her mother, he didn't give a shit whether a stray blow missed his wife and instead knocked his baby daughter unconscious.

At least little Cordelia was asleep now, Ginny had checked on her before Harry had come home. She had been smiling in her sleep again, it'd been so long since she had done that, a light dusting of cute freckles were just visible against the somewhat tanned skin of her chubby cheeks.

Ginny had kissed her baby's sleeping face and prepared herself for the beating she expected apon Harry's return.

And to think, she had loved Harry. Ginny thought bitterly as Harry pushed her to the floor.

But it wasn't the blow that shattered her cheekbone, or the painful thrusts of Harry inside her raping her again that reduced Ginny to tears, it was the fact that her child would suffer and Ginny's own stupidity at ever loving such a man.

But the truth was Ginny couldn't say if her love for Harry was a thing of the past, or if she still felt some sympathy for the broken man who had once treated her and her child so tenderly.


	2. Chapter 2

God Harry why do you do this to me?

You're everything I despise in a human being

Cruelty

Selfishness

Hatred

Violence… that one's just for me I guess?

God. Why am I still here then?

Because you are. That sweet, troubled and loving boy I married is still in

there. I see his sorrow flicker behind those vivid green eyes that have him trapped.

Because you are. Aren't you my love? Trapped?

He hates himself more than the world. He thinks I don't see the raised red lines that trace his wrists.

He drinks himself stupid,

He comes home,

He beats me,

He…rapes me,

He locks himself in the bathroom then takes out his hate on himself.

I take it back. Violence. He shares that one between the two of us.

There you are Harry lying between the sheets next to me in a drunken sleep I don't want to touch you in case you wake up angrier than before.

Still something is needed to soothe those angry lines up your arm; the fresh ones are still bleeding.

I kiss his cheek. I want to leave now pack up some clothes and take Delia some place safe. But I just can't – he needs my help, not abandonment.

I rest my cheek in the groove under his chin I fit in. I find it comforting that he automatically moves his hand to my waist and sleepily breathes my name into my hair.

I don't even flinch.

Much

I indulge in this moment of feeling safe between bruises and beatings that are my reality.

I want us to be like this forever, I want Delia to wake up every morning to a mummy and daddy this close.

But that's not a thing that Harry will let happen.

For him I am only a treasure to be loved and cared for in his subconscious.

Only his dreams will allow him to love me.


	3. Chapter 3

The next night Harry was different.

The next night he felt guilty for his treatment of his wife and daughter. He had let the guilt seep in too deep to drown it with shots of firewhisky.

So he had refrained from the drink altogether.

Just for a night.

In one night he was going to make it up to Ginny and Delia. He'd be the loving husband and father he should have been. They would fall into his arms and their love for him would intensify, they would be a family, a happy family.

Ginny was writing a letter to Hermione, when she heard Harry's key turn in the lock.

She knew letters were a rare comfort to her speechless friend, a nurse would read it to Hermione and as she stared blankly out of the window of the institute, she would allow her once sharp mind to take her to the places Ginny described; even though these places weren't even real to Ginny- as much as Ginny had planned and imagined the joy of travel- Harry restrained her wounded spirit and took advantage of its weakness after he had broken her.

Ginny flinched as she felt a rush of air behind that was Harry opening the kitchen door.

"Hi Ginny"

Harry's speech was not slurred, as she expected. Nevertheless she didn't turn to face him, and recoiled slightly as she heard his shoes squeak against the grey lino of their kitchen floor.

A gentle hand rested lightly on her shoulder, as Harry laid a butterfly kiss upon her bare neck.

God how she wanted that caress, how she needed to succumb to his arms.

But still she stayed seated at the kitchen table, shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry Ginny. I love you, Please let me?"

"You're not drunk"

A simple statement followed by Ginny's wary silence

"H...Harry..."

Words stuck in her throat, as she stood to face him.

"I… You hurt me, so much"

She was standing in front of him facing him. Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Ginny could not stop the tears from falling, she was so, so confused.

"I'm going to check on Delia"

Harry watched her leave the room and was cushioned with thoughts of another try at winning back his beautiful wife.

A couple of hours later Ginny stood alone and motionless by the window in her and Harry's bedroom. She stared at the view of orange street lamps and speeding cars below.

Harry had graced her with his absence.

Until now,

Ginny was aware of his presence as Harry walked into the room.

Ginny was surprisingly pleased when he put his hands on her shoulders, yet winced slightly at the pain and memories of one of her bruises inflicted by him, underneath the index finger of his left hand.

Again she dared not turn to face him for fear of seeing his demons behind those boyish eyes. Ginny could not, however deny herself the pleasure of the light kisses he laid upon her neck and jawbone.

Harry slipped the straps of her white cotton night dress over Ginny's slim lightly freckled shoulders, so he could kiss her shoulders and back too.

Ginny finally found the courage to face her husband and the demons that resided in his heart.

Ginny could not help but bury her face in the cavity of Harry's collarbone. They were like a jigsaw, she mused, and that, was where she fitted. Tears seeped into his shirt although no sobs, silent or otherwise racked her body.

She unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, carefully, afraid to touch the pressure point that would send Harry into his usual state of violence.

He helped her slide the dress down her thin figure, and kissed her bare breasts, her stomach her mouth, and fingering an edge of her cotton knickers. Holding her close, to make up for the love he had been denying her.

Standing in only underpants they both looked at each others bodies as though again this was their first love making session, in the dormitory in Hogwarts, when they were carefree. Except now there was darkness in their exploration of the others' body.

Ginny could not help but see a hand that had hit her, a leg that had kicked her, a torso that had lain atop her mercilessly thrusting away his sorrow.

Harry on the other hand, saw nervousness in his fiery Ginny, she was thinner she'd lost her childbearing curves and more, her bone structure was more prominent and a dull glint showed in her eyes and bruises were scattered across her pale flesh.

He had done this to her, and he knew it. It made him sick that it was he who had done this to his wife, when she had done nothing but love him.

He kissed her full lips again as he lowered her onto their bed and ran a hand over her frail body, placing a hand gently on her stomach.

"Can I?"

Harry asked moving his hand lower.

Ginny whimpered in reply, pushing her hips into Harry's, his erection pressing against her cotton knickers, through his own boxers.

Sliding off each others' underwear they held each other close as Harry entered Ginny kissing her face and caressing her.

They came together, and slept naked in each others arms, Ginny's head in Harry's collarbone.

Pretence that this wasn't Ginny's delusion of a changed husband, who would lose his will to resist the alcohol that made him forget about love.

Ginny woke alone, naked and ashamed to her baby's cry. Harry had gone to his small shop that sold broomsticks and the like, only to go alone to the pub afterwards to drown his thoughts, and Ginny's will to stay strong.

(A.N. Sorry My chapters are quite short... Please Read and Review with advice for the story? )


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